The Founder's gate
by Brother Bandit
Summary: Before ascension, Founder Brimir left four treasures to the world of Halkeginia: one was a portal to another world. Full story coming soon!
1. prologue

Founder's Gate (sneak preview)

When Saito emerged from the gate on the other side, he could only gawk. He was standing on a sort of metal ramp in a huge room. He saw opposite him a sort of balcony filled with seemingly human personals. He looked around him and saw many soldiers with what looked like AK-47s kneeling all around, poised to strike.

Suddenly a little box next to him blared out sounds – voices. Saito looked at it and with a jolt recognized it as a loudspeaker. Some one was speaking to him in a strange language – and yet it sounded very familiar. Still Saito couldn't understand. The person speaking through the loudspeaker repeated his command – or was it a question…it sounded like a question.

Derflinger popped up. "What's wrong partner?"

The soldiers shouted in shock and recoiled.

"I don't know," Saito looked at the soldiers curiously, "I can't understand a word they say, and yet it sounds so familiar."

Derf inspected the people around him, "well, whoever they are, I think it's safe to say that they're not used to talking swords, eh?"

"Hai"

Suddenly, the speaker turned on again; this time it was a different guy.

"Hello, please introduce yourself to us. (_Huh_ Saito gasped) Who are you, and where did you come from."

Saito's eye's boggled. He understood!! That guy spoke Japanese!!!

The boy babbled for half an hour before he could speak straight.

"I-I-I'm H-H-Hiruka S-S-Saito," he stammered in Japanese, "I-I have know idea what world I came out of, and I'm not sure where I am right now. C-can y-you tell me where I am?"

The addressed chuckled over the speaker. He seemed to be a nice fellow.

"Well, I can't tell you _exactly_ where you are, but I can tell you that we are right now somewhere in the middle of a continent called North America."

_North America!_ Saito's eyes fell on a soldier's uniform, and noticed a patch on its upper arm. It had a blue rectangle speckled with white five-point stars (pentacles) surrounded on two sides by stripes of red and white. He recognized the symbol and stared at it as though he'd seen a ghost. He turned to the speaker, who stood at the balcony – a middle-aged man with glasses who looked much younger, and spoke calmly "S-so, this is the United States?"

A grey haired man behind the speaker mumbled, "Smart kid."

Saito's calm began to strain even more "S-so, am I on Earth right now?"

"Yep"

Saito suddenly felt light-hearted. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"I'm back!" he whispered, "I'm really, really back!"

What happened next brought bafflement to the spectators: the boy dropped to his knees and prostrated a hundred times, each time exclaiming. "Arigato! Arigato! Arigato! Arigato! Arigato! Arigato! Arigato! Arigato..."

Suddenly two other figures emerged from the bluish gate: a middle-aged man (also with glasses, and also looking much younger) and a sixteen-year-old girl with pink girl came out. It was Colbert and Louise.

"Saito! Saito!"

The two stopped and looked around their new surroundings. Saito continued prostrating.

"Saito, what is going on?" Colbert tried to raise the boy up.

Saito, tears streaming town his face, looked at the teacher with a radiant look. "Well Mr. Colbert, we've done it! We've found the way into my home-world!"

"_What_?" Colbert's and Louise's eyes grew wide.

Saito nodded and spoke again, "Now I see. The founder and I – we're from the same world. His realm is my realm too!" Ere he fainted, not knowing that his conclusion was erroneous, and that he had just traveled through a Stargate. But he'll know soon enough.


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you Dan() for giving me the incentives to continue this story. I, personally, am very eager to continue this fic. Unfortunately, I've got lots of other fics waiting, so I can't be concentrate on this one alone. Please bear it with me as I struggle to finish all my stories.

Founder's Gate

chapter 1

Louise couldn't even begin to comprehend the new wonders that surrounded her chair next to Saito's bed. Her eyes wandered around the room – a hospital ward within the Cheyenne Mountains. Of course, she had absolutely no idea where she was).

The room, with the EEG, the electric lights, the digital clock, and all the other buzzing electronics, completely mesmerized the young mage.

_This is Saito's world?_ Louise slapped herself in the cheek. _No it has to be a dream!_

"Still unable to realize that this is where partner came from?"

She jumped and glared at the old sword.

"Me neither," Derflinger sighed, "Partner comes from a entirely strange world, it is so different.

"Notice, that in this world, we have yet to encounter a single magic wielder in this world. Everybody here are, apparently, non-magic people."

Louise nodded. She turned her attention to the boy sleeping soundly on the bed. She grasped one of Saito's hand and held it tightly. _You dog! _She thought, _When you wake up, you're going to have a lot of explaining to do. You are going to tell me everything about your world!_

Outside, behind a large glass window, two scholarly men watched her. It was and that mystery person who was leaning against the frame. It was the same man who greeted them when they came out of the gate.

"Those two seem close," said he.

Colbert nodded, "Indeed, those two have been through thick and thin, and occasionally, they have ended up being separated. But things tend to work out between them, and they always find their way back to one another."

He suddenly turned to the other person and extended his hand. "By the way, I am Colbert, professor at the academy of Magic in our world."

The man smiled and shook Colbert's hand, " Daniel Jackson – archaeologist and linguist – nice to meet you.

Colbert chuckled, shaking his head, "Really, it is quite intriguing how even though we had just met for the first time, we can communicate without any translater."

Daniel shrugged, "Actually, the language we currently speak exists on this world."

"Really?"

Daniel nodded. "In our world, people call the language, French."

"Really!"

Daniel nodded again, but Colbert was still nonplussed, "But how's that even possible when we live worlds apart."

Daniel crossed his arms, his head heavy with thought. "Well this is probably because at some point in the past your people actually originated here. And somehow they ended up on a different world."

Colbert nodded. "Well it seems to make sense. After all, our legends do tell us how we were brought to that world by one Founder Brimir. Perhaps this is how"

Daniel knitted his brow. "But that's impossible."

Colbert looked at him. "Why not?"

"Because, based on the time frame and by the way you are dressed, your Founder Brimir must have took your ancestors away sometime during our middle ages. And at that time, the Stargate – the one you came through was buried in a desert in a different part of Earth."

Colbert frowned, " That is indeed a problem to the theory."

Daniel got off the window and started pacing.

"Also,"he muttered to himself, " the other gate was stuck underneath Antarctica, so that one was inaccessible, too. So there couldn't have been any way for your ancestors to leave this planet...unless"

Daniel raised his head with a look of enlightenment.

"Unless what?"

Jackson raised a finger. Then he pulled out his radio.

"Uh Jack," he said into it.

"Yes Daniel? By the way, your suppose to address me as Cl. O'neal."

"Okay, I'll do that. Right now, though, I need to call an emergency meeting."

"I think I can arrange that. Why?"

"Well, it's kind of random, but I think there's a third Stargate on Earth."

-====()

A third stargate? Where could it be? Perhaps the symbol at the end can help you (if it appears). For now, that's the only clue you'll get. Due to my need to focus on my academics. I must now take a temporary leave. I promise you all that by the time College admissions has concluded, I shall return.


	3. Chapter 2

To Dan(): Thank you for being such a fan. As I have said, **_I am currently applying for colleges and thus am unable to write at this time_**, I will continue when all this shenanegans has ceased.

For the time being, please enjoy this fabulous poem. One that ties into of my story quite nicely. Enjoy. 'l^ (-- my signature)

Hamelin Town's in Brunswick,

By famous Hanover city;

The river Weser, deep and wide,

Washes its wall on the southern side;

A pleasanter spot you never spied;

But, when begins my ditty,

Almost five hundred years ago,

To see the townsfolk suffer so

From vermin, was a pity.

Rats!

They fought the dogs, and killed the cats,

And bit the babies in the cradles,

And ate the cheeses out of the vats,

And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles,

Split open the kegs of salted sprats,

Made nests inside men's Sunday hats,

And even spoiled the women's chats,

By drowning their speaking

With shrieking and squeaking

In fifty different sharps and flats.

At last the people in a body

To the Town Hall came flocking:

"'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy;

And as for our Corporation—shocking

To think we buy gowns lined with ermine

For dolts that can't or won't determine

What's best to rid us of our vermin!

You hope, because you're old and obese,

To find in the furry civic robe ease?

Rouse up, Sirs! Give your brains a racking

To find the remedy we're lacking,

Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!"

At this the Mayor and Corporation

Quaked with a mighty consternation.

An hour they sate in council,

At length the Mayor broke silence:

"For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell;

I wish I were a mile hence!

It's easy to bid one rack one's brain—

I'm sure my poor head aches again

I've scratched it so, and all in vain.

Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!"

Just as he said this, what should hap

At the chamber door but a gentle tap?

"Bless us," cried the Mayor, "what's that?"

(With the Corporation as he sat,

Looking little though wondrous fat;

Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister

Than a too-long-opened oyster,

Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous

For a plate of turtle green and glutinous)

"Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?

Anything like the sound of a rat

Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"

"Come in!"—the Mayor cried, looking bigger:

And in did come the strangest figure!

His queer long coat from heel to head

Was half of yellow and half of red;

And he himself was tall and thin,

With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,

And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,

No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin,

But lips where smiles went out and in—

There was no guessing his kith and kin!

And nobody could enough admire

The tall man and his quaint attire:

Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire,

Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone,

Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"

He advanced to the council-table:

And, "Please your honours," said he, "I'm able,

By means of a secret charm, to draw

All creatures living beneath the sun,

That creep or swim or fly or run,

After me so as you never saw!

And I chiefly use my charm

On creatures that do people harm,

The mole and toad and newt and viper;

And people call me the Pied Piper."

(And here they noticed round his neck

A scarf of red and yellow stripe,

To match with his coat of the selfsame cheque;

And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;

And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying

As if impatient to be playing

Upon this pipe, as low it dangled

Over his vesture so old-fangled.)

"Yet," said he, "poor piper as I am,

In Tartary I freed the Cham,

Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;

I eased in Asia the Nizam

Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats;

And, as for what your brain bewilders,

If I can rid your town of rats

Will you give me a thousand guilders?"

"One? fifty thousand!"—was the exclamation

Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

Into the street the Piper stepped,

Smiling first a little smile,

As if he knew what magic slept

In his quiet pipe the while;

Then, like a musical adept,

To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,

And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled

Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled;

And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,

You heard as if an army muttered;

And the muttering grew to a grumbling;

And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;

And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.

Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,

Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,

Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,

Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,

Families by tens and dozens,

Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives—

Followed the Piper for their lives.

From street to street he piped advancing,

And step for step they followed dancing,

Until they came to the river Weser,

Wherein all plunged and perished!

- Save one who, stout a Julius Caesar,

Swam across and lived to carry

(As he, the manuscript he cherished)

To Rat-land home his commentary:

Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe

I heard a sound as of scraping tripe,

And putting apples, wondrous ripe,

Into a cider-press's gripe:

And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards,

And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,

And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,

And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks;

And it seemed as if a voice

(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery

Is breathed) called out 'Oh, rats, rejoice!

The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!

So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,

Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!'

And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,

All ready staved, like a great sun shone

Glorious scarce and inch before me,

Just as methought it said 'Come, bore me!'

- I found the Weser rolling o'er me."

You should have heard the Hamelin people

Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.

"Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles!

Poke out the nests and block up the holes!

Consult with carpenters and builders,

And leave in our town not even a trace

Of the rats!"—when suddenly, up the face

Of the Piper perked in the market-place,

With a, "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"

A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;

So did the Corporation too.

For council dinners made rare havoc

With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;

And half the money would replenish

Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.

To pay this sum to a wandering fellow

With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!

"Beside," quoth the Mayor with a knowing wink,

"Our business was done at the river's brink;

We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,

And what's dead can't come to life, I think.

So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink

From the duty of giving you something for drink,

And a matter of money to put in your poke;

But, as for the guilders, what we spoke

Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.

Beside, our losses have made us thrifty.

A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"

The Piper's face fell, and he cried

"No trifling! I can't wait, beside!

I've promised to visit by dinner-time

Bagdat, and accept the prime

Of the Head Cook's pottage, all he's rich in,

For having left, in the Calip's kitchen,

Of a nest of scorpions no survivor—

With him I proved no bargain-driver,

With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!

And folks who put me in a passion

May find me pipe to another fashion."

"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I'll brook

Being worse treated than a Cook?

Insulted by a lazy ribald

With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,

Blow your pipe there till you burst!"

Once more he stepped into the street;

And to his lips again

Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;

And ere he blew three notes (such sweet

Soft notes as yet musician's cunning

Never gave the enraptured air)

There was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling

Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,

Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,

Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering,

And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering,

Out came the children running.

All the little boys and girls,

With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,

And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,

Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after

The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood

As if they were changed into blocks of wood,

Unable to move a step, or cry

To the children merrily skipping by—

And could only follow with the eye

That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.

But how the Mayor was on the rack,

And the wretched Council's bosoms beat,

As the Piper turned from the High Street

To where the Weser rolled its waters

Right in the way of their sons and daughters!

However he turned from South to West,

And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,

And after him the children pressed;

Great was the joy in every breast.

"He never can cross that mighty top!

He's forced to let the piping drop,

And we shall see our children stop!"

When, lo, as they reached the mountain's side,

A wondrous portal opened wide,

As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;

And the Piper advanced and the children followed,

And when all were in to the very last,

The door in the mountain-side shut fast.

Did I say, all? No! One was lame,

And could not dance the whole of the way;

And in after years, if you would blame

His sadness, he was used to say,—

"It's dull in our town since my playmates left!

I can't forget that I'm bereft

Of all the pleasant sights they see,

Which the Piper also promised me:

For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,

Joining the town and just at hand,

Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,

And flowers put forth a fairer hue,

And everything was strange and new;

The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,

And their dogs outran our fallow deer,

And honey-bees had lost their stings,

And horses were born with eagles' wings:

And just as I became assured

My lame foot would be speedily cured,

The music stopped and I stood still,

And found myself outside the Hill,

Left alone against my will,

To go now limping as before,

And never hear of that country more!"

Alas, alas for Hamelin!

There came into many a burgher's pate

A text which says, that Heaven's Gate

Opes to the Rich at as easy rate

As the needle's eye takes a camel in!

The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South,

To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,

Wherever it was men's lot to find him,

Silver and gold to his heart's content,

If he'd only return the way he went,

And bring the children behind him.

But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavour,

And Piper and dancers were gone for ever,

They made a decree that lawyers never

Should think their records dated duly

If, after the day of the month and year,

These words did not as well appear,

"And so long after what happened here

On the Twenty-second of July,

Thirteen hundred and seventy-six":

And the better in memory to fix

The place of the children's last retreat,

They called it, the Pied Piper's Street—

Where any one playing on pipe or tabor

Was sure for the future to lose his labour.

Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern

To shock with mirth a street so solemn;

But opposite the place of the cavern

They wrote the story on a column,

And on the great Church-Window painted

The same, to make the world acquainted

How their children were stolen away;

And there it stands to this very day.

And I must not omit to say

That in Transylvania there's a tribe

Of alien people that ascribe

The outlandish ways and dress

On which their neighbours lay such stress,

To their fathers and mothers having risen

Out of some subterraneous prison

Into which they were trepanned

Long time ago in a mighty band

Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,

But how or why, they don't understand.

So, Willy, let you and me be wipers

Of scores out with all men—especially pipers:

And, whether they pipe us free, from rats or from mice,

If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.

The Pied Piper Of Hamelin

Robert Browning

'l^

I hope that you did decoded that the symbol I left you last time [ -=====() ] was a medieval pipe. Hope that you also enjoyed this wonderful poem. As I said before, I will not be able to update for these few months. Never fear, I shall return. [ Disapperates]


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